


Two Turtle Doves

by Regency



Category: Holby City
Genre: 12 Days of Christmas, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drama & Romance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Family Fluff, Gen, Light Angst, Medical Procedures, Misunderstandings, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Questionable Medical Jargon, Women Being Awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2017-12-16
Packaged: 2019-02-05 11:33:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12793674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Regency/pseuds/Regency
Summary: AU. As a result of being injured in Afghanistan, Bernie requires a kidney transplant. This Christmas season, her perfect match is closer than first thought, in more ways than one.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For Day 2 of the Twelve Days (Berena) Ficfest - Two Turtle Doves
> 
> A special thanks to ktlsyrtis and matildaswan for putting up with my hourly meltdowns while getting this done. You're the real MVPs.

Today was the day. Serena was going to tell Bernie the truth. She’d put it off for a week now and daren’t go any longer with Christmas just around the corner. Bernie had waited long enough, Serena would just have to do some waiting of her own in the meantime.

She straightened up her desk, cleared the leftover lunch detritus from Bernie’s, and moved half of Bernie’s admin stack to her side. Bernie was unenthusiastic about paperwork at the best of times, Serena would deal with it before she went home.

Serena rubbed her hands on her trousers. She was sweating, which was ridiculous given the weather out.  She was offering her best friend potentially life-saving medical treatment, not proposing.  Another thought that was probably best relegated to a dusty corner of her mind.  Bernie was in the middle of a contentious divorce and at the tail end of an ill-timed affair, whatever feelings Serena had could wait. They’d have to.

She took another glance at the test results she’d retrieved from the transplant centre earlier in the week when Bernie had been away at a dialysis appointment.  She’d spent every moment poring over the details and consulting the transplant coordinator and her own physician.  She’d updated her last will and testament.  She could do this, give Bernie a fraction of what she’d been given.  Rubbing her temple, she tamped down on those thoughts before they had the chance to bloom to unmanageable proportions.

She looked toward the ward floor in search of a certain dishevelled blonde who was an hour overdue for their usual end-of-shift chat.  There was nothing usual about the talk Serena had planned for them today.

She caught sight of Raf at the garland-adorned nurses’ station first, and then Bernie who appeared in a haze of poor temper and just suppressed irritation. Raf gave Serena a subtle negative signal and Serena discreetly tossed the thin dossier back onto her desk. Now wasn’t going to be the time. Fine.

Bernie trudged into their shared office and shut the door behind her with more force than necessary. With a groan of profound exhaustion, she stretched to work out the kinks in her back that had become customary after long hours in theatre. She scratched irritably at the bandaged port under her long sleeved undershirt.

“Another bad one?”

Bernie shook her head and sat down with a pained grunt.  She regarded the stack of patient discharge forms awaiting her signature with open disdain. Serena’s followed her glance at the clock on the wall. Bernie had a standing dinner date with her children, and Marcus less frequently, on Wednesdays. With her scheduled to work over Christmas this week was particular important.  There wasn’t any chance she’d make it on time at this rate. Bernie buried her face in her hands.

Serena came round and sat her hands on Bernie’s slumped shoulders. “All right?”

Bernie looked up at her.  “Sure. Just a long day.” The days after dialysis were usually rougher on Bernie than the day of when she’d go straight home to sleep it off after work. Long surgeries without backup taxed her already diminished stamina, not that Bernie would admit it under pain of torture.

“Maybe you should head home. Let me handle all the paperwork.”

“You’re doing more than your fair share already. Let me handle this much.”  Bernie was forever worrying she wasn’t carrying her weight on AAU and nothing Serena said to reassure her succeeded for long.

Serena began to lightly massage Bernie’s straining trapezius muscles in an effort to ease the tension racking her frame. The impulse to look after her co-lead was unrelenting and Serena no longer resisted.  “You have dinner with Marcus and the kids tonight. I won’t have you making yourself late for nothing.”

“I wouldn’t say nothing.” Bernie rolled her head back, her eyes closed.  Serena took her cue and began working her thumbs up the sides of Bernie’s neck where the hours of precarious bending had taken their toll.  There had been a time when Bernie would have bolted at the first hint of someone touching her in a non-medical capacity.  That she welcomed Serena’s touch with such regularity was a constant surprise.

Serena jostled her slightly when it seemed Bernie had nodded off under her ministrations. “Bernie? It’s not worth it.” Not worth the inevitable arguing or the foul mood Bernie would carry around for the next week after the botched family gathering. A contentious divorce was bad enough; Bernie was doing all she could not to add estrangement to the mix.

Bernie shrugged, body undulating in a manner never less than fascinating for Serena to feel under her hands. “Worth it to me. I’ll be a little late; tardiness is nothing they haven’t come to expect.”

Serena held back a sigh of her own, redoubling her efforts to ease Bernie’s pain physically, if nothing else.  There was no changing Bernie’s mind once she was decided. “You’ve been in theatre six hours.”

“Should have been five.”

“Complications?”

“A surreptitious tear to peritoneum that concealed several areas of pernicious bleeding in the intestinal tract. We had to weed it out and then repair all of it.” She rubbed the bridge of her nose, which still bore the imprint of the surgical loupes she’d worn in theatre.

“A mean feat. You should have called for me.”

“You were busy.” Paperwork and broken bones, nothing Raf or the junior doctors couldn’t have handled in her absence. She preferred operating with Bernie over most anything her job required.

“Never too busy for you. You know that.”

Bernie smiled up at her without opening her eyes. Serena was relieved; she knew what Bernie would have seen in her expression and that wasn’t a conversation she was prepared to have. 

“You don’t have to take care of me, Serena. You have enough to do. I can carry my own weight.”

“Having each other’s backs means neither of us carries only our own weight.”  Serena worked the pads of her fingers along Bernie’s clenching jaw and down her especially tense neck to the straining tendons of her trapezii. Following the path tension cut along Bernie’s clavicle, Serena chased down an especially stubborn knot nestled in Bernie’s overworked right deltoid. The trauma surgeon twisted, hissing, under the pressurized onslaught only to settle under Serena’s apologetic gentling.

Bernie covered Serena’s hands before she could return her attention to Bernie’s shoulders and laughed, sounding slightly strained. “All right, give it a rest before I propose. Hands of a goddess, you’ve got.”

Serena wiggled her fingers along the nape of Bernie’s neck, eliciting another laugh from the other woman. “So I’ve heard. There’s a stack of paperwork with your name on it if you’re up for it. I’ll pick us up something from Pulses, give you a moment.” Give them both a moment, really. Serena enjoyed being close to Bernie too much for her own good.  She could use the distance.

Just as Serena passed Bernie to retrieve her wallet, Bernie pulled her back. “I didn’t even ask how you’re doing. Weren’t there some medical tests you were meant to be taking? Did the results come back?”

Serena floundered. She’d taken pains to ensure Bernie didn’t know she went in for bloodwork upstairs. Then again, this was Holby; the only thing more traded in than lifesaving was gossip.

“You knew about that?”

Bernie raised her chin.  “Not from you. Is everything all right?” She rubbed circles onto the back of Serena’s hand.

Serena swallowed. Being touched by Bernie was an animal of a different stripe to being the one to do the touching.  “Everything’s fine.”

“Good news?” Bernie offered a tentative smile.

Serena’s answering smile was decidedly genuine. “Good news.”

“You’ll tell me about it? When you’re ready, I mean?” 

“You’ll be among the first to know.”

Bernie squeezed her hand and let go. “I can live with that.”

Serena left Bernie to her paperwork and made for Pulses. If she hurried she might be able to get some of their leftover pastries on the cheap.  She could do with a sugar rush to finish the shift off strong.

The return trip took longer than expected. She was waylaid first by Henrik and then by Guy Self who was blatantly attempting to curry favour for one initiative or another to be put before the board at week’s end. She still had some pull despite no longer being a sitting member. The first matter she gave her complete attention; Guy’s matter was not so lucky, Serena had already discarded the details.

Serena hurried back. She’d only gone to give herself time to rethink her approach to telling Bernie her news.  Wednesday was clearly a poor idea. Friday, perhaps? That way Bernie would have the holiday weekend to consider….

On returning to AAU, she was intercepted by Raf at the lift. He held his hands up as if to stave off her reaction. “She knows.”

Serena swore. “ _How_ does she know?”

“She went through all the files on your desk.”

“Ah.” That was the last action Serena had expected Bernie to take. Bernie was by no means an admin cog; she much preferred getting her hands dirty in theatre and leaving the bulk of the paperwork to Serena who had a head for it. In fact, Serena much preferred when Bernie left her to it as she frequently had to go behind Bernie and fix her administrative missteps.  “All of it?”

Raf quirked his eyebrows meaningfully. “Probably as a thank you for that shoulder massage.”

Serena was unimpressed. “Watch it.”

“I’ve known you longer than her and I’ve never gotten a shoulder massage. I’m starting to feel underappreciated.”

“I’ll show you underappreciation,” she groused. “Keep everyone out for the next—oh, I don’t know, the rest of my life.”

Raf patted her arm in solidarity.  “You got it, boss. Good luck.”

Serena clutched the duet of coffees she’d gone to retrieve in her suddenly sweaty hands. “Thanks.”

Bernie was staring into the distance when Serena came bearing the fruits of her labour. “Anybody up for blueberry Danish?” Bernie loved blueberry Danish due to a decided lack of it in Afghanistan. It was the fastest way to butter her up when one needed a favour.  Bernie didn’t react to the bribe.

“Were you going to tell me?”

So they were jumping right into it. Serena secured the door and sat her offerings on the desk.

“Of course I was going to tell you.”

Bernie flipped open the unadorned file in front of her. It contained a large glossy poster practically shouting in large text _It’s a Match_ , and then smaller _You and Serena have no antibodies against each other_ above a pair of candid photos of them at Bernie’s surprise birthday celebration at Albie’s earlier in the year.

“This was what the tests were for?” Serena was going to have a long talk about patient confidentiality with the haematology labs first chance she got.

“It was.”

Bernie stared down at the poster. Serena was torn between the impulse to leave Bernie to digest the news and the need to explain herself. She had planned for the need to explain. She hadn’t planned for silence.

“We’re a match,” Bernie asked, finally, voice strangled.

“A perfect match.” The words felt oddly accusatory. Serena wrung her hands.

Bernie gently touched the pictures of them. They were two halves of one photograph. Two perfect equals. She couldn’t know that was the night Serena had decided to be tested to see if she was a match for Bernie. That also happened to be the night Serena realized she was in love with her best friend.

Bernie shook her head and looked up at Serena, dark eyes red-rimmed. “You can’t.”

“I can,” Serena countered. “I will if you’ll let me. You need a kidney, Bernie. Sooner rather than later. I’m your best shot.” 

“Why?” Bernie pushed, stubborn to the last in refusing to see her own worth.

“Because you deserve the best possible life! You have so much to do. I can help. Let me help.”

Bernie pushed up from her chair, too restless to sit.  “Serena, you can’t.  It’s too dangerous.”

Serena scoffed. “Please, we both know the risks, and they’re no greater than for any other routine surgical procedure. Don’t insult me by acting as though I’ve gone into this ignorant. What’s your real objection?”

“You can’t risk your life for me.”

“That’s my choice to make. I think you’re worth it. You’ve had my back, let me have yours this time. Besides, it’s Christmas and you’re very hard to shop for. It was this or a cap with a fuzzy ball on top.”

Undistracted by Serena’s attempt at levity, Bernie searched her face.  “Why?” she asked again, and Serena couldn’t deny Bernie was looking for something specific in asking, though she couldn’t say what for the life of her.

“Because you’re my best friend, and my life is better with you in it. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you in it. Isn’t that enough?” Something Serena dared not read into bled into Bernie’s expression and Serena averted her eyes to keep from hoping.

Bernie clasped her hand and nodded.  “Yeah, that’s enough.”


	2. Chapter 2

 

Events moved quickly once Bernie and Serena were confirmed as a reliable match. Serena had already informed Henrik that AAU would be down both clinical leads if she could convince Bernie to agree to the procedure. After shuffling the winter schedules and calling in some expensive favours, Serena was able to convince Ric to stand in for the duration of their recuperative period until one of them was well enough to return to work.

The surgery was delayed a couple of days in deference to their respective workloads and to ensure Bernie was still healthy enough to undergo surgery. Her prior good health served her well and she was given the green light to proceed, not that she did so without objection. If it wasn’t the matter of Christmas blowing in by the blizzard-full, it was work. If not work, then Elinor and Jason.  Bernie was brimming with worries, not for herself but for Serena. Bernie had asked Serena more than once if she was sure about donating her kidney, to the point that Serena started glaring at her every time she sensed the question forming on Bernie’s lips.

They spent little of their final shift before the surgery together.  Despite the holiday cheer filling the halls, AAU was a busy ward in need of much preparation before the board kicked off its annual end-of-year efficiency assessments, and the trauma unit was likewise in need of a steady hand to keep it shipshape in preparation for its head’s indefinite absence. Communication between Serena and Bernie on this day consisted of little more than glancing touches as they passed each other in the hallways and shared looks across the ward.  Bernie’s seemed to say more than usual, though they were no more comprehensible to Serena than they had been the week before.

They passed out of the Wyvern entrance on their way to their designated parking spots at the close of day, having braved a spate of collective well wishes from the staff on their way out. Bernie’s shoulders were still hunched near her ears at being the caught at the centre of attention with her. They’d each left with a pile of gift-wrapped trinkets from Fletch and Raf and Lou. Sachets of home-baked Christmas biscuits. Christmas poppers from the lunchtime fete on Keller they’d been unable to attend. They had been thought of.  Serena thought Bernie wasn’t sure what to make of being at the heart of so many people’s affection.

Snow descended in whirls from the dim sky, speckling them both in chilly flecks of ice. Serena, clad in her trusty fur hat was safe, whereas Bernie’s hair glittered with snowflakes.  Christmas music was being piped into the carpark over the PA system, lending Yuletide joy to the otherwise desolate space. Bernie hummed to Dean Martin off-key ( _Frank Sinatra, surely,_ she argued earlier, and been wrong). Their arms brushed as they walked. Serena’s heart fluttered, a sensation she’d become accustomed to in the year she’d known Bernie. Bernie was the epitome of a heartthrob. Serena might have laughed if it were someone else’s heart tripping over her.

They reached Serena’s car first.  This was where they’d say goodnight.

“Serena, are you su-“

Serena took Bernie’s hand and with it the unlit cigarette trapped between her fingers. “I’m sure.”  _I love you, I’m sure._

Bernie held herself taut for a moment before throwing herself at Serena in a passionate hug that took Serena by such surprise their cheeks collided. Bernie pulled back and smiled in her self-consciousness. “Sorry.”

Serena held onto her.  She could look at this face for the rest of her life.  “Don’t be.”  _Never be._ “Give my best to the kids?”

“And mine to Jason and Elinor.” Bernie pulled her into another hug, this one less clumsy and longer-lasting, and intentionally bumped her temple against Serena’s.  Serena clutched her back, memorizing how Bernie felt in her arms in case she should ever lose her.  “You’re mad, you know that?” Bernie asked, her humid breath tickling Serena’s ear.

“What’s new about that?” She’d taken on an ex-army medic sent to usurp her and found a friend. More than a friend.

Bernie withdrew, brushed strands of blonde shed hair off Serena’s black coat. “What are you doing, Serena? You already gave me half your ward.”

“Yet almost none of the paperwork, I’ve noticed.”

The sombre mood broke over them and Bernie laughed.  She was searching Serena’s face again.

Serena cut her off at the pass.  “Don’t ask me why.”

“You sure you won’t need that kidney for future booze cruises?”

“What’s a bit less booze cruising when I could be complaining about getting old with you?”

Bernie’s laughed a gain, a crackling, broken sound Serena couldn’t decipher yet wanted to desperately.  “That’s the plan, is it? I’ve found you out.”

“What can I say? When I make friends, they’re struck with me.”

“Friends,” Bernie echoed in a nebulous tone. She dropped her hands from Serena’s clothes in favour of her coat pockets.  “I don’t feel stuck. I feel fortunate and so lucky to have you as part of my life. I think I’d like to stick around a few decades more.”

“That’s the plan.” She patted Bernie’s shoulder when she’d rather kiss the uncertainty from her face. She couldn’t do that. That wasn’t the plan.

Bernie stepped out of the way to let Serena into her car and closed it securely behind her. She was dragging her feet. Bernie’s parking spot was three down from Serena’s, fifteen seconds’ walk. Serena rolled down her window.

“What’s bothering you?”

Bernie reached through to window to brush Serena’s shoulder. More hair, perhaps, but Serena didn’t see anything. She noticed Bernie seemed to working up the nerve to say something.

“Serena, I…you know how I feel about you, don’t you?”

Serena tapped her fingers on the steering wheel.  She knew what she wanted, none of which had any bearing on what was _real_.

“I mean, we’re friends and…is that enough?”

Serena’s muscles locked in their current position. She couldn’t have fidgeted if she wished it, or run from this conversation as much as she might like to.  She was here for the duration.  Bernie was her friend and she loved her as a friend; the rest was stuff and nonsense.  “If it’s enough for you.”

“Yeah, I mean, I just wanted us on the same page.” Bernie hugged the folds of her coat around her. She shrugged, her expression tight, her eyes dark, on the wrong side of humourless. Reserved. Distant. Unreadable to the one woman who thought she had an inside line. Who thought wrong.

 “The same page, I understand.” Serena couldn’t pull off a smile.  _Fuck._ “I should get going.”

“Right. See you in the morning?” Were it not for the cacophony of her pulse drumming in her ears, Serena would have thought she sounded doubtful. She chose to think otherwise.

“Can’t wait.  Good night, Bernie.”

“Night.”

Bernie exited the car park ahead of Serena while Serena pretended to check something on her mobile. Once she was sure she was alone, Serena blotted her cheeks with the back of her gloved hands and made the drive home, her hitched breathing disguised by the din of Christmas carols on the radio. Her children were waiting.

 

Dinner with her daughter and nephew was a balancing act of reassuring them she was fine and convincing herself. Not even the sight of their tree twinkling with holly and tinsel could raise her dampened spirits.

It took all her focus to hold up her end of this stilted conversation with Elinor and Jason. Jason was being perspicacious, per usual, asking as many questions about the transplant proceedings as he could fit between bites of lasagne while Elinor acted as though the entire affair was an inconvenience.  Serena knew her daughter well enough to detect the fear colouring her distant behaviour; nevertheless, it would have been nice to be consoled for once instead offering the consolation. _I can’t even have wine._ She could have murdered a cask of Shiraz on a night like tonight.

Sian was a late entrant to the proceedings. Fresh from court, she swanned into Chez Campbell using the key Serena had given her emergencies that had merely become an all-access pass for her oldest friend. All the better tonight since Serena wasn’t feeling up to playing hostess. 

Sian came bearing wine Serena wasn’t allowed to drink and soul-fortifying hugs that were almost more than Serena could take in her present state.

Dinner continued at much as the same clip, except Sian filled the awkward silences with her commentary on the food, on work, on politics, on the university Elinor was attending for Drama—the alma mater of her second ex-husband. She knew the faculty well and, oh, the stories she could, and did, tell.

Jason had questions about _that_ and Sian had very detailed answers. Serena missed her wine sorely, missed it less when Sian’s borderline salacious bard routine made her children laugh so hard mulled cider spurted out of Elinor’s nose and Jason gave himself hiccups. Her daughter shockingly hadn’t minded her soiled blouse and Jason had leapt at the chance to look into the best way to eliminate hiccups. Water, it turned out in this instance, was the ticket.

Their meal wrapped up shortly thereafter and somehow Serena got away without having to talk about her strange mood or the events of the day with two of the four people most likely to worry about it.

Jason adjourned to his room to continue his research on the best methods for promoting recovery in organ donors. Elinor peeled away toward the guest room she’d shown little interest in until tonight.  Serena didn’t pretend she knew what her daughter would be getting into up there. She knew so little about the girl she’d raised that it only registered as a pebble thrown against her mountain of discontent.

Once they were left alone at the dinner table Sian switched to the seat nearest Serena, bringing with her undrinkable wine and sympathy.

“You look like hell. What happened?”

“Maybe you haven’t heard I’m donating a kidney in the morning.”

“You’re supposed to look like hell afterward, not before.”

“It’s probably the withdrawal. I haven’t had a drink in about a week.” Since she’d been verified as a match, actually. She wanted to be ready whenever she got the okay from Bernie to proceed.

“There’s a record. It must be serious.”

“Please don’t.”

Sian read her expression carefully. “She doesn’t feel the same.” Sian had been the first person she told of her feelings for Bernie. Ric had been the second.

“She said she wants to be friends and wanted to make sure I was fine with that.”

“Are you?”

I can be. She’s one of the best friends I’ve ever had, Sian. I’m not going to throw that away over some poorly conceived crush.” She folded her hands on the table to keep from fidgeting under Sian’s close examination.  “

“Right, if we’re doing this, I’m drinking for two.” Sian topped off her own glass and took a deep drink Serena envied.  “Firstly, don’t downgrade your feelings. We both know you’re in love with her. I’ve seen you with crushes, I’ve seen you in love; you moon after her like you never have any other lover of any gender. Secondly, how did this conversation come about? This seems a mighty poor time to go breaking hearts. You could still back out.”

“I wouldn’t do that.”

“No, because you’re a good person with a highly developed—some would say _overdeveloped_ —sense of responsibility.  If I know that, I’m sure she does.  Nothing you’ve told me leads me to think she’d hurt you intentionally.”

“She didn’t hurt me. She-“

“If you say ‘set you straight,’ I can’t be held responsible for my actions.”

“I think the horse has left the barn on ‘straight,’ I’m afraid.”

“Rena, that horse has never met a barn.”

Serena cut her eyes at her friend to find her giggling into her wine. Yes, Serena might have had the odd flirtation with female classmates in university, but none of her doe-eyed pashes had amounted to anything. Surely they didn’t count. Surely?

“That got you thinking, has it?” Sian winked and gave her hand a pat.  “Don’t worry your head over it. There are plenty of eligible blondes in the Sainsbury’s.”

“I don’t want just any blonde.”

“I’ll try not to be offended by that.”

Serena swatted her with a cloth napkin, smiling despite herself. Sian knew all the shortcuts to Serena’s laughter. Serena loved her for it.

“Oh, Rena, your poor heart. When will it catch a break?”

Serena got up to start the dishes.  There wasn’t any sense in her sitting here if she couldn’t drink.

Sian followed after her, sympathetic. “Maybe you misunderstood.”

“I don’t think so.”  Serena braced herself on the sink and took a deep, cleansing breath.  _Inner peace._  “It doesn’t matter. I’m not doing this for the romantic comedy ending.  I’m doing it because she needs it.”

Sian hugged her from behind. “I love you. Jason loves you. Under all that youthful ennui, Ellie loves you. Your colleagues love you.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“Of course you do, don’t be ridiculous. They love you like a tyrant who forces them do their jobs—deeply and despite themselves.”

Serena dropped her head in a slightly hysterical giggle.

“There, there. See, not to so bad.  You’re okay.  You’re loved all the way round. Don’t forget that.”

Serena rubbed her arm and sniffled, no tears. “I’ll try not to.”

After determining she was too sozzled to make the drive home, Sian stayed the night. She and Serena curled up under the covers of Serena’s oversize bed and talked about everything except Serena’s upcoming operation and Bernie’s apparent rejection. They remained the camo-painted elephants in the room, of course, but Serena managed to laugh more than she thought she would with them lurking in back of her mind. Sian made it her mission to put a smile on Serena’s face and she succeeded where most anyone else would have failed.  Serena was lucky to have her, she knew. Very lucky.

The next morning came early for the Campbell household. Serena trudged from bed at Sian’s prodding when her alarm sounded in the form of Bing Crosby’s dulcet tones before the sun extended a single ray above the grey horizon. She stumbled through a bracingly hot shower and tottered through her morning toilette minus the time usually allotted for makeup and outfit selection. She dashed concealer under her eyes to disguise the dark circles and ran a brush through her hair so she didn’t look a complete fright, but otherwise dressed like a woman going in for elective surgery—for comfort and convenience.

Clad in a warm jumper and smart but loose trousers over snow boots, Serena did a last circuit of the house to be sure everything would run in her absence. Alan would be coming over in the evenings to keep Jason company for the next couple of days. If her stay in hospital was extended for any reason, Jason would go to Alan’s for the duration. Ellie had intimated she might be staying over without making a commitment one way or another. Serena had no illusions that her daughter would be on hand if she needed her, but she was grateful she’d come by last night and hadn’t gone without saying goodbye in the morning.

Once Sian and the children, grown though they were, had consumed a quickly thrown-together breakfast of dry cereal and toast, they assembled at the entryway to start the day.

“Jason, you remember where you’re meant to be meeting your supervisor?”

“At Pulses. We’ll be taking the lift to the conference room together where the other porters will already be gathered. The training seminar is to last all day with short breaks for refreshments and lunch.”

“Very good, Jason.”

He nodded, accustomed to Serena offering him praise for being knowledgeable about his itinerary and other scheduling matters. “Should I go wait in the car?”

Serena rubbed her brow. In all her planning she’d forgotten she was usually the one to take Jason in to the hospital. She’d hoped to leave her car home to avoid a repeat of last year’s car theft drama.

“Damn, I’d wanted to leave the car at home.  Ellie, would you mind giving your cousin a ride to work?” She hated to resort to asking her daughter who tended to balk at the slightest inconvenience but Sian was surely due in court and Serena had scheduled a taxi to pick her up not long from now. Jason was unlikely to enjoy that experience without prior warning.

“I can take him,” Elinor acquiesced, uncharacteristically mild in the face of what was admittedly Serena’s oversight.

“You will?”

“If he doesn’t mind coming with me,” she added with an air of uncertainty. “My car’s clean and safe, Jason. You can inspect it for yourself.”

Serena regarded Jason carefully to see how he’d react to the unexpected alteration in his routine. He was in the process of scrutinizing Elinor’s expression and body language. Though the cousins would likely never be close, they had tolerated each other well the night before, a process made all the simpler by her daughter’s unexpected decision not to antagonize everyone in attendance.

“I would be amenable to that,” Jason said at last. “Thank you.”

Serena thanked them both for their cooperation.  What she wouldn’t give for more moments of peace like this.

“You’re welcome, Auntie Serena.”

“Of course, Mum.”  Elinor grabbed Serena in a vicelike embrace at the door. “Just come back, okay?”

Serena stroked her hair and rocked her gently side to side. They hadn’t hugged like this in years. “I’m coming back. You’ll see me later.”

Elinor stood back to look at her.  “Of course.” She swung for teary-eyed bravado and hit it squarely.  “I’ll come visit after class. Love you, Mum.”

“I love you, Ellie.”

Elinor ducked out the front door, leaving Jason behind with Serena in the foyer. Sian pretended to take a call in the living room. Serena could hear her sniffling.

Jason held tightly to the strap of her messenger bag.  She could see he was troubled by what was to come, by the odds, minimal though they were for a negative outcome.  “There are risks.”

“I know them.”

“Auntie Serena, it would be troubling if something….” Jason eyes drifted down toward his plaid Wellies. “I would miss you. You are not my mother, I had a mother, but you have become vital to my routine. I would miss you like I miss my mother.”

She wished she could hug him with the same fierceness she hugged Elinor; she certainly loved him with the same fierceness. She swiped at her eyes. She would be fine, she was sure, but having been in his shoes, she knew the pain of coming out on the wrong side of ‘the odds.’

“I would miss you, too, Jason.”

He cocked his head, a pensive frown stealing over his features.  “I don’t know if the dead miss anything. The science is unclear.”

“I don’t plan to die.”

Jason nodded. “Please, don’t.”

“Everything will be fine.”

More for him than herself, she wanted to be right.

Sian caught her in a one-armed hug once he’d disappeared out the front door to set off for work with Elinor. “I told you, Rena. Didn’t I tell you you’re loved?  You’ll have to start believing me eventually.  You know I’m always right.”

Serena hastily dried her face of the few tears that had escaped. “I guess that’s my cue.”  She was due at the hospital by eight. It would have been at six but for transplants scheduled ahead of Bernie’s.

“Wonderful, I’m driving you.”

Serena checked her watch. Her taxi would be arriving inside the hour.  “Since when?”

“Since I pretended to be drunk and spent the night.” Sian _had_ been a suspiciously coherent storyteller for someone who’d consumed two bottles on a single serving of lasagne and no garlic bread.

“Sian, nothing will go wrong.”

“I don’t care, I’m taking you. Get your bag.”

Serena did as bid, retrieving her go-bag from the hall closet and gathering her coat. “Anything else, Nan?”

“Ungrateful brat that you are, your chariot awaits.”

The drive over was composed of nonsense chatter about Sian’s most ridiculous clients. The working mothers and the tyrant magnates, the eccentric, thriving shopkeepers and enterprising grandmothers that patronized Sian’s firm in droves. She was never without a shocking tale to lighten Serena’s burden.

“So she said, ‘What he and his do with my lemon preserves is their business. I just don’t want to hear about it!’”

“I can’t fault her. That is not what ‘external use only’ means.”

“Not nearly.”

They both shuddered between peals of incredulous laughter.

Sian let her off at the patient-drop off point outside the hospital with a quick hug and a rub on the back. “You’re going to do great.”

“I will.” Serena wasn’t frightened. Anxious, not frightened.

“I’ll swing by tonight. Knock ‘em dead, gorgeous.”

“Not looking like this.”

“Always. Now shoo.” Serena retrieved her bag and got out of the car. Sian left her with a backwards wave.

Today was the day. This was really happening.

 

Serena was being prepped for surgery within an hour of arriving at the hospital, just as planned.

She was shown to her cubicle by a nurse on Keller and presented with a gown to change into to wait for her surgeon. She was also informed there’d been a last minute change to her surgical team.

Once Serena had donned her gown, Ric entered her cubicle wearing Keller’s customary plum scrubs.

“ _You’re_ doing the surgery?”

“Try not to sound so shocked, I still know which end of the scalpel is up.  You’re a very important patient, only the best for our best this Christmas.”

Serena was sceptical of the party line.  “You’re just afraid I’ll try to sue the hospital again.”  Why else would the Deputy CEO be scrubbing in for what amounted to routine surgery?

“I’m covering for someone as a favour.” He smirked.  “But, the thought did cross my mind.”

“All the waivers are signed, don’t worry. I know I’m in capable hands.”

“You’re in friendly hands.” She knew that and yet was still reassured. She hadn’t undergone surgery since giving birth to Elinor by Caesarean twenty-one years ago and could admit she had a touch of nerves.

“Thank you.”

The rest of prep proceeded quickly. The nurses hooked her up to the necessary IVs, and leads. Ric disappeared at some point, likely to meet with Bernie when she arrived at the hospital. Serena nodded off amid the monotony of waiting for things to get underway, lulled by the strains of _Silent Night_ drifting over from the nurses station, only to wake when she caught Bernie’s husky timbre just on the edge of hearing.

She would have liked things to be different between them, closer, more intimate, certainly with a great deal more kissing, but what they had was good. Being Bernie’s friend and colleague was anything but a step down. Saving Bernie’s life was a little bit like saving her own. That was more than enough to be getting on with.

Serena was taken into theatre first and it was there that one final, vital request came to mind. She brought a halt to the organ removal preparations just as she was about to be put under, while she still could. Ric signalled for the anaesthetist to pause administering the general anaesthetic to allow Serena time to make herself heard.

“Ric, promise you’ll take care of Bernie for me.” Aware as she was that he didn’t need to hear it, she couldn’t rest till she had his word. She wouldn’t let him hear the end of it if he did anything less.

“We’ll take care of both of you, Serena. I promise.”

“That’s all I ask.  Okay, let’s go.”

His smile wasn’t visible behind his mask, but it warmed his eyes and that eased Serena’s admittedly irrational fears.  Ric would handle it. She would have to trust him. “Count back from 100 for me. Can you do that?”

Serena nodded, difficult though it was to do from this position. “100…99…98…97…96…”

Darkness crept in softly, inexorable and then complete.

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

Smell was the first sense to return to Serena when she woke hours later. The oddly nondescript scent of disinfectant in a sterile environment. Laundered cotton. Slightly stale sweat. Shampoo not her own.

Noise filtered in next, what there was of it. Her surroundings were quiet but for the muffled drone of a PA system paging consultants to theatre. The mellow, asynchronous beeping of multiple heart monitors. A body shifting in an uncomfortable chair.

Sensation followed the taste of staleness in her mouth. She was thirsty. She was cold. She was partially numb.

One of the heart monitors began to beep sporadically out of tune. Not yet enough to signal a cardiac emergency, instead indicating apprehension, anxiety, or an unexpected to return to wakefulness.

Serena’s left side was numb.

She dashed off stroke symptoms in her head but found she lacked the focus to carry out the usual checks. Her thoughts drifted toward AAU. Toward Elinor. Jason. Sian. Bernie and Bernie’s dark, sad eyes.  For a moment her thoughts unravelled and she panicked, certain she’d suffered some rare complication. She wrenched her scattered wits from recollecting Ellie’s hug and Bernie’s cheek against hers to the soggy present. She took stock of her limbs. It took three tries to count them. Legs, and right arm were fine. It was her left arm that was entirely numb.

Her upper left quadrant was numb. She was exhausted and found it difficult to think in straight lines. She was in a dull, muffled kind of pain not easy to pinpoint.  _What happened to me?_

“Ms. Campbell, are you awake?”  Serena only vaguely recognized the voice.  “If you can hear me, can you squeeze my hand?” A large hand cover Serena’s right. She gave a squeeze after a moment’s delay. The works were all mucked up; the nerve impulse took its time leaving her brain and reaching her hand. She couldn’t have said how long, time was a blur. “Good. You’ve just come out of surgery, so you’re probably disorientated. Everything is fine. The surgery was a success. Can you open your eyes for me?”

She attempted to wriggle all her fingers and toes and found the lot were intact and accounted for. The pressure on her left arm and shoulder was external, not internal. With some difficulty she managed to open her eyes and take in her surroundings.

A private room in post-surgical recovery unless her eyes deceived her, and Cameron Dunn holding her hand. He was wearing a fairly hideous holiday jumper covered in reindeers.

“That’s better. Sit tight. I’m going to get your surgeon. Think you can stay awake that long?”

Serena managed a short nod that was about all she had energy for. When he’d gone to fetch Ric Griffin, Serena cast her eyes about the room trying to get her bearings. She loathed being under general anaesthesia for this very reason. But then, she’d never claimed to be anything but a terrible patient. She turned laboriously to her left to take further stock of her situation and found her lodestone snoring at her side, monopolizing her left shoulder and arm for herself.

Bernie was sleeping heavily in the same bed, face pillowed on Serena’s shoulder. A small pool of drool had dried on Serena’s gown. Her colour was good. Her breathing deep and even. The beeping of Serena’s heart monitor slowed to a more normal rhythm as her anxiety dipped. Bernie was alive. Ric had kept his word.

Ric greeted her with a smile on finding her awake.

“About time you came back to us.”

“I hate general anaesthetic.”

“You’ve said.”  There was a story there. Serena was going to hear about it when she was recovered, she was sure.

Ric examined Serena thoroughly and though he made no mention of Bernie’s presence, it was obvious he didn’t entirely approve of their bed-sharing from a professional standpoint. Not that she blamed him: Navigating their various leads was a logistical nightmare. His raised eyebrows, however, indicated Serena could expect some good-natured ribbing about this in the future. She didn’t mind much, he’d kept his word.

Once Ric had pronounced her in good health for her first follow-up, he left Serena and Cameron alone again.

“Now that I’m somewhat more coherent, what’s this about?” She indicated Bernie still heavily asleep beside her. Bernie had slept through Ric’s visit without any sign of waking. Cameron levelled her with one of those inscrutable, intriguing, bloody frustrating looks Bernie was known for.  Serena’s harrumphed. “Can we dispense with the dramatics, Mr. Dunn? One unreadable Wolfe is about all I’ve got time for.”

“Mum wanted to be near you when you woke up.”

Serena’s gaze was drawn back to her friend. Their hands were tangled in her lap.  It’s how she would have wanted to wake up if she had her druthers, entwined with Bernie.

“This can’t be very comfortable for her.”  Serena wasn’t in any rush to disturb Bernie when she looked so peaceful, nonetheless.

“She insisted.” From the dry tone he effected, Serena suspected Bernie had demanded he either render aid or get out of the way while she did what she wanted in the first place.  She really was a one-woman army when she put her mind to it.

“She didn’t give you a choice.”

He snorted. “Not much of one. More water?”

“I think so.”  She managed a couple of sips before the effort of lifting the cup proved too much for her. Cameron took it away without complaint. He sat on the edge of the bed, like his mother, seemingly working up the nerve to share something.  Serena wondered if Bernie noticed how he took after her.

“You did something really amazing for my mum today. I can’t begin to thank you.”

“My reasons were partly selfish. I just want her to be well as she can be again.”  She wanted Bernie to grow old and grey beside her. A kidney was something she could afford to lose compared to what she’d keep.

“When she told me, I didn’t know what to think. Most people don’t just give their organs away to colleagues they’ve only know a year.”

“I’m not a match for most colleagues I’ve only known a year.”  Serena rested her index and middle fingers over Bernie’s wrist to take her pulse. Even though the heart monitor indicated Bernie was perfectly fine, being able to count out her heartbeat was comforting. Bernie lived, all was well.

“My sister and I, when she told us, we both asked if the two of you were together. Romantically.”

Serena tried to sit up, but Bernie’s ensuing snuffle kept her anchored in place. Serena soothed her while glaring at Cameron who was unruffled by her irritation.

“You have to admit, it makes more sense if you’re in love with her.”

“She’s my best friend.”

“She said the same thing.”  Somehow Serena got the impression that wasn’t all Bernie had said on the matter. Cameron ruffled his hair in a gesture that was heartrending in its familiarity.  “She really likes you. More than I’ve seen her like anyone.”

“We’re friends.” Per Bernie’s express wishes.

“That’s not all you are. You don’t have to say anything to me about it. I’ve been informed it’s none of my business, but you should tell her.  This is a second chance most people don’t get, don’t waste it.”

The nightmare of watching Bernie struggle to balance a professionally outgoing nature with her physical limitations was at an end. Or so Serena hoped. It would be months before they could ascertain whether Bernie’s immune system would reject Serena’s kidney, but she was hoping, beyond hope maybe, that it wouldn’t mind too much being part of Bernie now.

Bernie woke in fits and starts. Her fingers twitched in Serena’s grasp, her pulse ox monitor scraping Serena’s palm. Her legs shifted restlessly against Serena’s. She rubbed her cheek against Serena’s collarbone.

“S’rena?” she slurred.

“Welcome back to the land of the living.”  Serena tucked Bernie’s hair away from her bleary eyes as they opened.

“You okay?” She smacked her chapped lips and Serena beckoned Cameron over to offer her some ice chips. Bernie smiled at him and crunched carefully on the ice.  Serena counted the crinkles beside her eyes. The freckles on her cheeks. Looked away when Bernie returned her scrutiny.

“I’m getting along. How are you feeling?”

Bernie quenched her thirst before answering. “Like death…but good.”

Serena laughed, only to hiss as the motion pulled at her abdominal incision. That was going to take some getting used to, chuckling with care.

Bernie sat up and winced herself. Serena squeezed her shoulder. Cameron hovered uncertainly. “Take it easy.”

“Goes double for you,” Bernie retorted.  Cameron subsided, obviously deciding they must have been on the mend if they were already squabbling.

“I’m not the one that got blown up last year.”

Bernie grunted but didn’t argue.  The IED was Serena’s ace in the hole when it came to Bernie taking care of herself. Bad enough that she’d suffered the cervical spinal fractures she had, that and the pseudo aneurysm in her pericardium and right ventricle that had led Oliver Valentine to hold her heart in his hands to get it beating again. The damage to her kidneys caused by bomb shrapnel had left Bernie on the verge of acute intrinsic renal failure in short order. Had it not been for thrice weekly dialysis treatments, Bernie would have died from complications associated with uraemia some months ago. Serena could have lost her without ever having her; there was a wealth of tragedy in that.

“Mum, I’m going to get the doctor. You two should…talk.” He was gone before either of them could protest.

Bernie reclined against Serena. She fit like a glove.  “Have I missed something?”

“I couldn’t say.  He’s as impossible to read as a certain trauma surgeon I could name.”

“Dunno where he gets it from.”

“I…” She nearly said ‘I love you’ for no reason, save for it being on the tip of her tongue. “I don’t know what I expected.”

Bernie’s hand found hers amid the sheets. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Cameron already said that and I told him no thanks was necessary.”

“He asked me if you loved me.”

Serena turned her hand over to cradle Bernie’s hand against her stomach. “Of course I love you. You’re my best friend.”

“Don’t fob me off, Serena. It’s a legitimate question.”

“Would it mean less if that was the reason?”

“No, I just want to know.”

“Why complicate things?”

“They’re already plenty complicated from where I’m sitting.”

“Which is on my bed, for some reason.”

“I couldn’t see you from over there. I wanted to make sure you were all right.”

“I’m fine. I may not have army training behind me, but I’m plenty healthy.”

“I couldn’t see you at first. It must have been the anaesthesia. I panicked. If you’d been hurt or worse because of me—Serena, I couldn’t have lived with that.”

“Why?”

Bernie failed to find the words to answer her.

“Not an easy question, is it?”

Bernie shifted toward the railing, winced and went still. Her throat undulated on a swallow. “I should let you have your bed back.”

Serena caught her arm before she could lower the safety rail.  “Stay. I like the company.” _I like you with me._ “I don’t really want to be alone in here.”  It was disconcerting being on the other side of the patient-doctor divide.

“Whatever you want.”

Bernie did have to leave the sanctuary of Serena’s bed for her own when Ric returned to examine her. He made quick work of checking her vitals and inspecting her incision for early signs of infection. She was right as rain.  Serena might have slumped from relief. She knew that nothing would go wrong and yet that knowledge didn’t prevent the fear from creeping in at the margins. She hadn’t thought she would lose her mother at Holby either and yet she had.

“See, Bernie, nothing to worry about. You’re fine and so am I.”

“I’m better than fine, thanks to you.”

The space between them seemed positively cavernous.  Serena twisted her hands in the covers to hide how much she wished Bernie was still beside her.  Bernie’s finger’s ceased their own fidgeting when Serena set eyes on them.  She smoothed the sheets over her legs and cleared the throat.

“I can’t believe you gave me a kidney for Christmas.”

“I did say you’re hard to shop for.”  Hard though not impossible. Serena had a tote of presents for Bernie at home. Small things that would make her life a little easier. A memory foam back cushion for her office chair. A thick Merino wool scarf. Lambskin gloves to wear when she forgot hers at home. A jolly fine jumper depicting a wolf in a Santa hat that Serena giggled just thinking about.

Bernie found her giggling suspicious. “If you got me something ridiculous…”

“You’ll wear it and like it. You’ll need it to keep warm.”  Bernie’s collection of knitwear had grown over the past year, courtesy of her chronic anaemia. When Serena caught her complaining of cold on the mildest of days, a new scarf made its way to Bernie’s side of the office. Bernie had ceased her complaining when Serena had gifted her one in her preferred colour. She wore it everywhere.

“Promise it’s not a cap with a pom-pom on it.” She groaned at Serena’s wicked grin.  Serena wasn’t giving the game away that easily. “You could have stopped at the kidney.”

“I like going the extra mile for my friends.” _For you._

“I know. It’s one of the things I like about you. I more than like about you.”

 There was something Bernie wasn’t saying. She pressed her lips together and turned toward the window to look out at the deteriorating weather.  A porter arrived bearing their late lunch before Serena could formulate a response more coherent than the jumble of half-formed questions jockeying for attention in her mind.

They had a late lunch full of companionable chitchat, taking turns complaining about the blandness of what passed for a hospital fare and sighing wistfully over the snow falling in sheets outside the window, surely coating the cars and streets and houses far below.

“The cold’s murder on my back, but I love the snow. The kids loved making snowmen when they were small. We used to erect snow soldiers and stage snow battles on the front lawn after whiteouts until Marcus got fed up with my side always winning.”

“What a general you must have made.”

“Oh, not me. I was in charge of repairing the troops when their carrot noses got knocked off by ballistic snowball missiles. Cameron’s the general. He’s always got a strategy at work.”

“Canny like his mum.”

“Here I thought I was big and macho.”

“He also gets that from his mum. One of the things I love most about you.”

“You do?”

“I do.”

Bernie tucked her hair behind her ear.  Serena was sure she wasn’t imagining the look of pleasure on her face.

Serena decided to go for broke, in the spirit of Christmas. “Bernie, come over here.”

Bernie was standing before she paused to ask why.

“I need a hand lowering the bed railing. I’m terrible at it. Don’t tell the porters or they’ll laugh.” Bernie laughed enough for all the porters on their ward, but she did help.

“Going somewhere?”

“Making room.” She patted the space she’d left empty beside her.  “You coming back or are you going to let me freeze in this bed alone?”  Preferring Bernie in bed with her as a comfort hadn’t been an excuse, she felt safer with her close by, and warmer, too.

Bernie climbed under the covers and squirmed round till she found a warm nook in which to settle.

“I’ve had a good number of soldiers in bed in my day but never under these circumstances.”

“We’re cheap dates, you may have tried too hard.”

“Speaking personally?”

“You’ll have to see for yourself.”

Serena was sorely tempted to try.

 

They fielded a steady stream of well-wishers in the afternoon. After Cameron left for home, Raf and Fletch arrived together with Evie, who hugged Serena so tightly she just about squeezed the stuffing out of her. Henrik brought them a bouquet of peonies to share and an Aloe vera plant which Serena took immediate custody of, knowing Bernie’s penchant for killing the most robust of houseplants. Morven tiptoed in at the end of her shift to bring them contraband milk tray.  Sacha brought them a blooming sunflower. To brighten up the dreary atmosphere of the place, he said.

Dominic Copeland came bearing a floating metallic balloon that read _Hey it’s a kidney_!  This might have been more impressive had _Girl_ not been crossed out in red permanent marker and a crude drawing of a kidney scribbled beneath it.

Serena played hostess this time around.  “To what do we owe the pleasure, Dr. Copeland?”

“You tell me.” His tone was rife with meaning.

“Dr. Copeland!” Bernie barked in censure, the tenor of which was belied by her rosy cheeks.

The junior doctor shrugged.  “Nothing’s going on. I know nothing. I’ll just leave this here.” He sat the balloon and the attached miniature bouquet on the chest of drawers nearest the door. “I thought you’d still be asleep.”

Bernie scowled at him. “I had a wakeup call.”

He gave their linked hands a quick look.  “I’ll say. I’ll leave the two of you to ‘rest’. I’ll see you up on the roof, Ms. Wolfe.” With that parting shot, he was gone.

Serena got the distinct impression she’d missed something. “Is that code for something?”

“Not for anything I’ve heard of.” Bernie was an appalling liar.

“It’s all going down on the roof, is it?”

Bernie shrugged. Her face was a parody of calm.  Serena opted to let her off the hook lest she injure herself coming up with a convenient excuse for Dominic’s behaviour. She’d pick her brain when Bernie was free to run. What good could come from cornering her? Serena was out of things to hope for.

 

 

Sian appeared at the start of sanctioned family visiting hours with Elinor and Jason in tow.  “Isn’t this cosy?” she noted upon finding Bernie and Serena dozing together yet again.  She was impervious to Serena’s quelling look.  “The beds weren’t nearly this spacious on your ward.”

“These are private beds.”

“I can see why.”

“Good day in court?”

“Only every day.”  She offered Bernie her hand.  “Sian Kors, the uni mate.”

“Bernie Wolfe, the work mate.”

“Bed sharing is what passes for work around here? I should change professions.”

“Sian, behave.”

“A little mature humour. We’re all adults here, aren’t we?” She was only partly joking.  Serena regretted drunkenly confessing her daydreams about Bernie to her more than ever.  “I’ve read human contact promotes healing. Who am I to tell the doctors not to heal themselves? Just you take care of our girl. She’s been through a lot.”  There was a note of caution behind Sian’s good humour.  Serena might have stature on her side, but Sian was by far the scrapper of the two.

Serena rolled her eyes. “Bernie was in a war.”

“We all have our wars, Rena. They’re just different ones.”

Bernie cut in before they could descend into a tight-lipped snit, “I’ll take care of her. You don’t have to worry.”

“I’ll always worry. That’s what friends do. Isn’t that how this came about?” She gestured to them together, flush side by side, sharing covers, sharing organs, lives and careers irrevocably intertwined. Like turtle doves who found one another and paired up for all time.  Sian had seen it for what it was before Serena had been prepared to give it a name. “How are you both? What’s the prognosis?”

“We’ll be hale and healthy in no time,” responded Serena, parroting Ric’s earlier assessment.

Sian hummed sceptically.  “You’d better be. I can’t keep drinking all the red wine on my own or people will start to talk.”

Bernie looked at her Serena and Sian, a teasing light taking up residence in her eyes.  “I doubt you’ll be without your drinking partner for long. Serena’s been a bear without her Shiraz. I should have guessed something was amiss.”

“Thank you for that. My best friends have both turned traitor against me, all in the name of vino.”

“Maybe if you tried ordering by the glass more often?” Bernie suggested, to Serena’s offense, spurring a disbelieving guffaw out of Sian who knew Serena’s spirited roots going back decades. Serena had never been a ‘by the glass’ kind of girl.

“Sorry, Serena Campbell here. Have we met?”

Bernie shook the hand she offered by instinct. In many ways it was like meeting for the first time. Before they’d been strangers and now they shared something immutable, indefinable. What was indefinable between them wasn’t anything new.

Their eyes remained locked for a long moment. Bernie smiled and Serena flushed.

Sian coughed inconspicuously from their bedside, shattering the moment.  “I think Jason wants a word before I take him home.”

Sian drew Elinor aside to let Jason have a word with Serena and, by extension, Bernie.

“You didn’t die. I’m glad.”

“I’m glad I didn’t die either.”

Bernie looked between them quizzically.  “Why are we talking about dying?”

“I researched the possible outcomes of organ donation. The worst among them was death. I told Auntie Serena I would prefer she didn’t die.”

Sian shot him a conspiratorial look.  “I told her that as well. Seems like she listened to us.”

“It wasn’t all her doing.  Not even Auntie Serena can perform surgery on herself.  The surgeon must be of adequate competence not to have killed her.”

“Adequate competence, he says.”

Bernie buried her laughter in a cough. “That’s kind of you to say, Jason.  We’ll be sure to pass your compliments on to Mr. Griffin.”

Once Jason had been waylaid by another of Sian’s legal anecdotes, Elinor stepped up to the plate.  Serena braced herself. Her daughter had been the most sceptical of the three by far.

“My mum’s told me a lot about you. I wasn’t sure at first about all this, her giving up a kidney for just anybody.”

Bernie lowered her head slightly. “My son wasn’t convinced, either. Nor my daughter.”

“She said if it was going to be anybody, it’d be you. Hope you’re worth it.”

Bernie went rock still beside her.

“Ellie…”

Elinor smiled tightly. “I meant it as a compliment.”

Serena didn’t need to reprimand her to put that line of consternation between her daughter’s eyes.  Elinor knew the lines well enough to be aware she’d crossed one.  Serena didn’t want to fight, she was far from up to her usual standard. More than that, she didn’t want two of the people she loved most at odds. Bernie hadn’t said anything as yet, only hung on to Serena’s hand tight enough to leave the impressions of her fingers on her skin.

“I’ll try to be worth it,” she finally murmured, nothing at all like her usual self. It satisfied Elinor, though, and Serena supposed that would have to do for a temporary truce.

Elinor might have been playing the aloof protective party, but she was smiling as she hadn’t in years. “I’m glad you’re okay, Mum.”

“Thank you, and thank you for coming.”

“I can’t stay. Play rehearsal. I just wanted to see you.”

“You can see me anytime.” That was the future she wanted, one where Elinor wanted to see her for reasons that weren’t financial. Maybe that was what the rest of her life looked like if she played her cards just so.

Elinor hugged her and kissed her cheek before saying her goodbyes.

Not long after Serena’s family had gone, a young woman appeared bearing a fruit basket.  She was a lanky, honey blonde facsimile of what Bernie Wolfe must have looked like as a university student.

“Mum!” Her shout was the only warning Bernie received before being tackled in a loving embrace.

Serena got no such warning to get out of the way and was left without any place to retreat to in order to avoid becoming the inadvertent pickle in a Dunn and Wolfe sandwich.  In the end she opted to keep quiet and ride it out.

The girl eventually withdrew, all pinked-cheeked apologies.  She had Marcus’s eyes, if Serena remembered correctly. “Erm, sorry.”

Serena relented.  “No harm done.”

“I meant the not introducing myself part. Charlotte Dunn. That’s my mother,” she declared as though she wasn’t the spit of the woman in Serena’s bed.

“The resemblance did make me curious.”

“Everybody says that!”

“It’s quite strong.”

Mother and daughter shared an exasperated glance. They had the same sheepish smile.

“It’s really cool, what you did for her. She’s been miserable on the dialysis all these months. She complains about it all the time.”

“I do not!”

“Constantly!” Charlotte chirped, echoing her mother’s indignant tone.

“It was hard on me, Lottie. Being sick is a bit shit.” She scratched at the bandaged port in her arm. They all hoped it had seen its last use.

“I know, Mum. It’s not your fault. If it was the only way to keep you, I’d listen to you moan about it every day till you let your hair turn grey.”

“Steady on!”

Charlotte turned her attention to Serena. “She doesn’t care about her hair unless you’re around.”

“I care,” protested Bernie, rather half-heartedly.

“Sorry, you primped before your kidney transplant because you wanted the nurses to fancy you?”

Bernie shot Serena a nervous smile. “Lottie, don’t you have studying to do?”

“Hmm. Lucky for you, I’m due to sit my exams for the rest of the week and won’t be back till after. We’ll be talking about this.”

“Not bloody likely.”

“ _Very_ likely.” Charlotte squeezed Serena’s hand. “Thanks for what you did.”

“I hope it takes.”

“Even if it doesn’t, that was brave of you and kind.  Mum tell her how kind it was.” The note of steel in her voice was unmistakably Bernie’s influence.

“It was very kind of you to give me a kidney,” recited Bernie gamely.

“I’d say anytime, but I’m all out of spares.”

Charlotte looked at her with a funny smile Serena was sure she’d seen Cameron wearing earlier. “I like this one.”

Bernie shooed her toward the door. “Go study!”

“Going! Bye, Mum. Bye, Serena.”

“It was good meeting you.” Charlotte backed out the door, waving till she was out of sight, leaving the two of them alone. “She’s exactly like you.”

“Please. She’s everything I wish I was. I’m so proud of her.”

“You should be. You raised two decent, polite, caring kids. Not everyone can say that.” Serena couldn’t quite say that without some of caveats. Elinor had her moments and Jason was all Marjorie’s doing. Not a terrible outcome for two unwitting sisters doing it on their own.

 

 

Dinner saw them greeting the last of their night’s visitors in the form of Ric Griffin. He was dressed for the winter weather. Coat, gloves, and scarf. He was on the way out.

“You’re both recovering well. Temperatures and vitals normal. How’s the pain?”

Bernie answered first. “Normal levels. Serena?”

“Normal.”

“Given your backgrounds, I’m going to trust you’re telling me the truth, because I’d like to go home and have dinner with my granddaughter at a reasonable hour. That said, I’ll be checking your incisions first thing in the morning, unless either of you experience pain spikes, excess heat or swelling at or near your incisions, or develop a fever in the night. In which case, hit the call button and summon a nurse.”

Serena was compelled to remind him who he was dealing with. “We do know how this works.”

“Nevertheless, I’m obliged to advise you of your options. You’re my patients and you’ve undergone major surgery. The best thing you can do is let me look after you until you’re back on your feet.” He continued to make notations on each of their charts.  “I’d say I don’t want you trying to diagnose yourselves or each other, but I have a feeling I’d be wasting my breath.”

“Two heads are better that one,” Bernie quipped.

“Two _beds_ are better than one, but you don’t seem to be adhering to that, either.”

“We got cold?”  Not an outstanding justification, granted, but one Ric seemed loath to contradict.  Serena was going to owe him drinks for a year after this.

“If you need additional blankets, you’re welcome to request for them. I shouldn’t need to say this, but I’d recommend avoiding vigorous physical activity for at least a few weeks.”

Serena raised an eyebrow. Bernie blew her hair out of her face which did nothing to hide the colour in it.

“That’s my professional opinion, take it or leave it. Good night, ladies.”

He abandoned them to the elephant in the room that no longer seemed content containing itself in the corner.

“Well, that was…”

“It certainly was.”

“Serena.”

Serena cringed, wished for the distance she’d abhorred when there was a room between them. One could hide in distance. “We don’t have to talk about this.”

“I think we do. I want to talk about it.”

What Serena wanted was to put this conversation off until the New Year. This way, she could keep Bernie right here, at her side.  She could share her warmth and her laughter and not count the days till she lost it.  She wouldn’t have to wonder if the next words out of Bernie’s mouth were borne of authentic feeling or gratitude.

“We’re friends. What else is there to discuss?”

“Whatever I did, whatever Sian thinks I did last night, or you think I did. Serena, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You didn’t.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“It’s not important.”  Serena combed her fingers through the wispy hair at the base of her skull, wishing for a shower. Something about the recycled hospital air made her long for soap and hot water.  “You said I should be happy with us being friends and I am.”

Bernie’s lips pinched and turned downward.  “That’s not what I meant. I just wanted to know if that was enough for you. It isn’t really enough for me. It hasn’t been for…longer than I want to say.”

“I don’t understand.”

Bernie glanced toward the door, shifting incrementally from their intimate contact. Searching for impossible distance. “I didn’t want you to feel obligated.”

“You’re anything but an obligation, Bernie.”

“Obligated because you knew how I felt about you.  Everyone else seems to know.”

Serena’s thoughts collapsed a flurry of static-ridden white.  Last night, in the car park, Bernie had said…She had been sure that Bernie didn’t feel the same.

Bernie eyed her warily.  She was waiting for the first sign of a negative reaction. Serena could see that she was prepared to bolt, post-surgical incision or not. “I want so much with you, but I thought it was just me. You don’t know how many friendships I’ve destroyed with feelings they couldn’t return. I didn’t want to ruin us. Tell me I haven’t.”

The static cleared. The confusion eased. Serena knew what to do.  “You couldn’t.”

“Are you sure?  Once we start this, whatever this is, I can’t go back.” There was no after Bernie for Serena. Realistically, yes, if there had to be someday, there might be, but for Bernie? Should the transplant result in success, Bernie would carry part of Serena inside her for much of the remainder of her life, if _not_ the rest of it.  There was no way for them to become more intertwined than that. “Is that what you want?”

“I want you. You’re everything I want.” She closed the scant space between them and kissed the hopeful look off Bernie’s face. What they had was more than hope. It was concrete as Bernie’s cheeks were velvet soft cradled in Serena’s hands. Bernie embraced Serena, coaxed her into a deeper kiss, parting her lips to let Serena inside. Serena sighed at the first brush of their tongues, arching her spine to press their bodies together, eager for them to be in contact everywhere, inch for sensitive inch.  Were they anywhere else Serena would be stripping Bernie out of her clothes and putting her university experience to extremely good use. But here at Holby, where no door truly locked and privacy was briefly-held delusion, these kisses would have to act as promise and temptation.

Serena dragged a hand down her side, thumb just glancing over a breast.  Bernie gasped in momentary surprise, only to hum in deep satisfaction and kiss Serena again but with teeth.  Serena moaned just imagining how good those teeth would feel elsewhere.  It wouldn’t be long before she could find out.

Their fun was brought short when Bernie grabbed her stomach at the first pull of her sutures. “Damn it.”

Serena rubbed a soothing hand down her arm and nodded toward the morphine pump Bernie had been ignoring since coming out of surgery. Stubborn soldier that she was, she was determined to go without.

“And here I thought we were barred from vigorous activity.”

“Just wait until you’re cleared, darling. I’ll show you vigorous activity.” Serena pulled her down onto the bed into position that put less pressure on Bernie’s abdominal incision. She shifted to ease the stinging at the removal site on her own back. Ric was going to give them such a lecture come morning. Serena was stupidly giddy to hear it if it meant she heard it with Bernie. She kissed Bernie again once a dose of meds from her morphine pump had begun to ease the worst of her discomfort.

Bernie kissed her back, drifting close to savour the contact. Urgency would be for later, tonight was for gratitude and softness, and _not_ aggravating their wounds. Besides, Serena got to kiss Bernie Wolfe. What more could she want for Christmas that the world could give?

 “If you’re worried I’ll change my mind, kissing me isn’t the way to get me to leave.”

Bernie propped herself up on her arm. “I’m going to remember you said that.”

Serena smiled and pulled her as close as she dared. “I hope so.”

 

 

Once the lights were turned out and they were nestled together on the verge of sleep, Bernie asked her one last time, “Why did you do it, Serena?”

Serena was warm in a cold room and alive with the woman she adored in her arms. She was too tired and content for lies.  She stroked Bernie’s hip, one of many parts of this woman she was eager to know with all her heart.  “Because I’m in love with you, have been for months, and there were no other choices.” With her last waking breath she brushed their lips together and rubbed her nose against Bernie’s till her lips tilted up into a smile.

Bernie’s eyes twinkled in the snowy twilight as the snowflakes had glittered in her hair.  “I love you, too.”

Like a turtle dove who stumbled on its perfect match in all the world, Serena had found her one, and like a turtle dove she was never letting Bernie go. Doves weren’t the only creatures who fell in love and partnered for life.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this adorable real life story, [here](http://sententiousandbellicose.tumblr.com/post/144273262785/mattthewitchking-afatblackfairy-tumblagay), with plenty of liberties taken for drama.
> 
> Author's Notes: Come squee about Berena with me on Tumblr at [sententiousandbellicose](sententiousandbellicose.tumblr.com)!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own any characters, settings, or stories recognizable as being from Holby City. They are the property of their actors, producers, writers, and studios, not me. No copyright infringement was intended and no money was made in the writing or distribution of this story. It was good, clean fun.


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